


Atlas

by kate7h



Category: Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gudfinn - Thorfinn x Gudrid, Late Night Conversations, Nightmares, Waiting in Iceland, breakdown - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22270345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate7h/pseuds/kate7h
Summary: Thorfinn woke much like he always did, with thrashing and moaning. Gudrid was there as she had been for these past two years, holding him and comforting him... Most nights he made himself bear it, stare mournfully at the dead which haunted his steps, accept their scorns and wailing and every last curse. It was hard, and it felt worse and worse the happier the world around him became.Most days, he accepted it without complaint.But some days... the burden just felt like he was going to collapse from the weight of it...
Relationships: Gudrid/Thorfinn (Vinland Saga)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	Atlas

**Author's Note:**

> This could be considered a companion piece to my other story of them waking in the middle of the night "Know You Are Beloved," that one being in Gudrid's POV.

Thorfinn woke much like he always did, with thrashing and moaning. Gudrid was there as she had been for these past two years, holding him and comforting him. Thankfully it had been some time since he’d woken Karli with such fussing, so he was at least grateful for that. Most nights he made himself bear it, stare mournfully at the dead which haunted his steps, accept their scorns and wailing and every last curse. It was hard, and it felt worse and worse the happier the world around him became. (He remembered his nightmares being infinitely harder to handle in the days following his marriage to Gudrid…)

Most days, he accepted it without complaint. 

But some days, the burden just felt like he was going to collapse from the weight of it. He felt like his feet would sink into the earth, bearing the dead with him in waking and sleeping. It was almost physical, not just spiritual, the feeling of those souls about him, dragging at him, burying him. It was what he must bear silently, after all, it was his own choice to take so much sin upon himself- spreading such violence and death for over a decade… bitterly merciless, foolishly unashamed. 

This particular morning, as he woke to the sleepy, calming reassurances of his love, it felt like he’d suddenly hit the breaking point he’d been suppressing for a long time, and he couldn’t be silent anymore. The dead loomed in his waking hours, hanging over his bed, far too close to his wife, who was blissfully unaware of their presence. 

Gudrid patted his chest, her eyes still closed. “Just go back to sleep, okay? Everything’s fine.”

His chest throbbed and rare tears filled his eyes, spilling almost immediately down his temples. He lifted his hand, covering his mouth at the utter hopelessness which engulfed him. Gudrid didn’t notice until a quiet, muffled sob broke from his throat. At that, she sat up, hands grasping him. 

“Thorfinn?” She asked, her voice filled to the brim with worry. 

He just turned towards her without a word. He couldn’t bear to look her in the eye, but he needed to be close to her. He needed her more than he thought was possible. Pulling her to lie down once more, he buried his face in her breast, clinging to her with all the desperation he was feeling as the weight seemed to crush him.

“H- hey,” she spoke softly, her hand coming up to stroke his hair. “You can talk to me.”

He was silent for a few more moments, trembling as he held her. He knew he was hiding from them. His eyes were wide open, fearing to close them, but he hid his sight in the soft warmth of his wife, not wanting those spirits in his view at all. Just for now. Just for this night.  _ Just… let me rest for awhile... _

“Talk to me,” she whispered, holding him as he cried. It wasn't terribly common for him to cry. He’d seen so much misery in his life and stifled such reactions all his childhood. His life was different now, thankfully, but that tendency remained. He didn't think about it, of such a need to cry. He didn't consider it until the tears burst from him like the rough waves shattering the surface ice. As an outside thought, he wasn't even sure if Gudrid had ever seen him cry. Einar had, his mother had, but not many else.  _ No wonder she was startled…  _

His thoughts aside, like the sea bursting through the ice, he couldn't just stop the tide. He wept bitterly long after he’d woken, achingly hollowly for his sins… for the dead… and for himself. Gudrid was there quietly, gently stroking through his hair and over his back, trying to soothe him as she did for Karli. As if he were a child. It seemed fitting, as crying like this did make him feel like a child- not childish… but small in the face of the world around him. Helpless in the face of what he'd done, and hopeless in any ability to right those wrongs in the end.

“I- I can’t… I can’t bear it, Gudrid,” he got out quietly, his voice trembling. “I can’t stand it anymore.”

Gudrid's hands stilled when he spoke, her fingertips soft against his face. "Was the dream that much worse tonight?"

He shook his head, still holding tight to her as the wave continued its course.  _ It will pass… this will pass…  _ "Same… i- it was the same…"

"But…" Gudrid started, that worry so clear in her voice. "If it was the same, why are you-"

"Gudrid…" he buried himself further, clinging to her so tight he was worried he might hurt her. "If you could see them… if you could hear their cries…every day..." he didn't continue, but he was sure she understood. She always understood him quickly.

Despite the turmoil still inside him, he did feel calmer now, the sobbing ceased and only stray tears now soaking her shirt. But she tended to have that effect on things, bringing these complex issues down to simplicity. He still felt hopeless, but he no longer felt like the world was crushing him into nothing.

"The dead," Gudrid breathed, and he nodded again, never looking up, never closing his eyes. He wanted to feel Gudrid's heart beat against his cheek… he wanted to watch over their son as he slept. He wished for such a simple life as that, living with his family peacefully, no worries in his mind about the past. No more hands stained in blood, never to be washed clean.

“I know I don’t have the right to say this… I made my decisions- I killed them with my own hands… it’s my burden to bear…” he clung tighter to her, feeling the tears come again. “But I feel like I’m going to break. I can’t-" he choked, trembling against her as he wept. "I can't bear it… I can’t bear it any longer...”

As he cried, he felt Gudrid tremble with him, crying with him. This was his life now. This was his world. Having people like Gudrid, who would cry with him in the dead of the night. Having a little child call him 'Father' as if he were his own blood. Having Einar there by his side, no matter what, without Thorfinn ever having to ask him. Having his mother, sister, Leif, Bug Eyes, and many more who knew him and what he was… and still gave him care and forgiveness. How, in the face of all of that, could he even bear to stand before  _ them? _

"I'll help you," Gudrid whispered, tears making her voice swollen. She leaned her face against his hair, embracing him tightly. "Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it. I'll do anything for you."

"Oh Gudrid," he murmured, hearing the dead wail against him, at her kindness towards him. At the pure and selfless love she gave to him every day. But with every kindness, the more restless and hate-filled they became. Still, he found that he could feel the love he had for her, even in such a moment. "There's nothing more you can do that you haven't already given me, love."

"But I-" Gudrid's hands grasped his shirt. "I haven't though. I haven't done enough, because you still feel like this…"

The last part of that came out as a whisper, and Thorfinn felt his heart ache at her words. Willing courage to come, he lifted himself up to look at her. "I- I wish you could ease this storm within me, Gudrid. I would welcome it… but it's not a burden you should bear." He reached out, smoothing his hand gently over her face. "Don't take upon yourself such a duty, you're in no way obligated."

"Of course I am," Gudrid said sternly, tears lingering on her cheeks. "I'm your wife, aren't I?"

He sighed, watching as she sat up as well. The dead were there, creeping at the edges of their bed, moaning, cursing. He stared at them with swollen eyes, feeling achingly hollow inside. “Yes… but I’d rather you not be laden with me, because it’s not something that can be fixed.”

He turned his eyes back to her. “I don’t want you to feel responsible when this doesn’t get better.”

Gudrid scoffed, frowning heavily in the low firelight. But he didn’t want her to be angry with him tonight. He brought himself closer, wrapping her up in his arms. “You’re doing everything right, I think. I’m sorry that I’m this way.”

Gudrid hugged him back, holding him tight. “Don’t say sorry to me.”

He smiled sadly, feeling that dull aching in his chest. "Of course."

After an extended amount of time passed, Gudrid sighed against him, pulling away and began pushing him back down into the bed, trying to get him to sleep again. 

"My rule still stands," she said firmly. "If you wake up in the night, you must at least  _ try  _ to get back to sleep."

He let her push him down, lying on his side as she laid beside him. Again, all the care she went out of her way to give to him… he hardly knew what to do with it other than just be so incredibly grateful. Either way, the dead still cursed him for it… for her… He shut his eyes, sighing deeply.

"Vinland…" he whispered, longing for relief. If it were to come from anywhere- if he were to find forgiveness and closure for his sins, it would be in Vinland. He wished for it with every fiber of his being. Hell, he even prayed for it, when he felt so inclined to mimic Gudrid in her faithful, morning prayers. He didn't know if he believed what she did, but it seemed like something better than what he'd grown up believing- clinging hard to this warrior culture which had felt like it had brought him to ruin. "In Vinland… I will put them to rest."

Gudrid didn't speak, she simply wrapped herself around him once more, burying her face in his chest. He held her tight, looking up once more at the ghastly sight. His fingers tightened on her as he stared at them mournfully.

_ Please wait a little longer… until we get to Vinland... _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading


End file.
